by Susi Wright
In frustration, Fralii looked into his face and demanded, ‘What is it, Lumi… can you tell me? How can I help you?’
‘Can you find… a bottle… a bowl… something? Quickly… I need to… let out water!’ His eyes imploring and apologetic to her rush of embarrassment at realising, despite his inept choice of words, what must be done. Of course, he needed to urinate! Her father had used an old wineskin when he was confined to bed with the ague. Nothing could stop the call of nature, nor, it seemed, the burning blush on her cheeks as she rummaged in the saddlebag for something suitable, and came up with nothing but a wooden bowl. She offered it to Luminor. ‘Will this—’ Luminor snatched it desperately, cutting off her question, rolling to his side to relieve his bursting bladder. Fralii, given no time to leave the confined space, could do nothing except turn her head and find great interest in the activities of a wood beetle as it worked its way laboriously up the crumbling bark to the opening of the hollow. Luminor’s heavy sigh signalled the accomplishment of his ease. Fralii’s discomfort lasted a little longer, realising she would now need to dispose of the contents of the bowl. Luminor had been considerate, and discreet enough to turn his back to her to empty his bladder, and had already fastened his braies, when she asked if she could take the bowl. So giving him all due credit, she faced up to her part of the operation, and carefully balanced the brimming receptacle in both hands while raising herself up to the opening, and summarily flung the contents out to the forest floor.
Later that afternoon, Fralii went out again into the woods, to stretch her legs and search for more berries which were plentiful at this time of year. She also noticed a wood-hen’s nest hidden under a bush, taking all but three eggs, carrying these delicacies carefully back to the hideout, and managing to scale the trunk and climb into the hollow without breaking any. They both tucked in, sucking the raw eggs from the shells and quickly downing more mashed berries. Luminor was still severely weakened and frequently fell into exhausted sleep, obviously incapable of travel just yet. Simply sitting up seemed to tire him; he certainly could not make it to the hideout entrance, so the wooden bowl, which Fralii had placed in one corner, proved a very useful part of their gear on a number of occasions, usually when Fralii was absent down in the woodland. On her return, she would dutifully dispose of the contents. Overcoming her initial embarrassment, it gradually became natural to her sensibilities to care for Luminor in this way.
Deciding to rest two more nights, cramped though it was in the hollow, it also seemed only natural that they settled down, in the comfort of each other’s arms and slept a blessed, peaceful sleep, only waking when the early morning birdsong signalled daybreak, for Fralii to answer the call of nature and look for things to eat. On the third morning came the real call to action, when Luminor announced he felt ready to move, secretly worrying how long he had been ailing.
They drank the small amount of water left in one of the skins, Luminor dragging himself on hands and knees, slightly dizzy, to follow Fralii over the edge of their nest, squinting in the first strong light he had seen for several days. He struggled down the trunk, joining her on the forest floor, pulling with him the feather cloak he had discarded in the throes of fever, grateful that it had saved both their lives, probably not for the last time.
Standing upright brought on waves of nausea at first, threatening to divest him of his breakfast, but through willpower alone, he regained the hold on his stomach contents, and his equilibrium.
‘We can go… now,’ he announced decisively, though swaying a little. Fralii was happy to be moving on at last. Walking felt good. Alive was good.
Luminor still had sword and bow, though his arrows were all gone now. He assured Fralii he could make some more on the way, by sharpening certain straight woody reeds often found growing near water. With arrows, he could hunt, feed them. For now, they had energy enough to keep going. As they walked companionably, stopping periodically when Luminor grew breathless, needing to rest, neither spoke of their budding feelings. Instead they discussed how they would survive the next few days, giving each other hope.
‘We find a samblar… or two,’ suggested Luminor. ‘Walking… too slow!’ Fralii was at a loss as to how they could achieve that, out here in the middle of nowhere, with not a coin between them, even if they did find a village. Luminor lapsed into thoughtful silence, for long moments.
Fralii was becoming accustomed to her companion’s taciturn nature, and rather than irritate her as it had in the beginning, it now seemed to have a somewhat settling effect. His quiet strength actually comforted her. She still had many questions, not the least of which was how he was able to fly, but she chose to keep them to herself for the time being. The silence gave time for her thoughts to return to the tender moment in the hideout when he took her hand. The warm feeling in the pit of her stomach had remained with her lying beside him into sleep that night, and lingered still. And how it surged every time she looked at him, especially when their eyes met. She felt strange—warm, but nice. Yes. She would keep that to herself also.
As Luminor walked beside Fralii, also deep in thought, knowing he owed this fascinating woman his life, he also knew he would lay it down again to protect her. Over the days before the attack, he had searched his soul for what it meant to have these strong feelings for a human. She was so beautiful to him that when he looked at her, it physically hurt. If the truth be known, he wanted her; even more than that, he wanted to pledge his life to her, hold her to him, and never let her go. Of this he was certain! He was prepared to challenge anyone who might tell him it was not possible, human or Gaian, even his father!
Of course, traditionally he would be expected to choose a bride from their race, a Gaian soulmate, if not before, ultimately when he became leader in Thunis’ place. He would have to venture to far-off lands to find such a match. With their numbers dwindling seriously, clans were small and few, rarely crossing paths, so sparsely distributed were they through the known world. He did not want a Gaian bride. He wanted only Fralii. A little resentfully, he pondered the many traditions he would like to change, when he became lord.
At this moment, he would attend to the safe return of Fralii to her father, and that in quick order, as he had lost count of the days that had passed since he farewelled Thunis at the mouth of the caves of Varn. He knew that time for this rescue was fast running out, before his father would sense his misdemeanour, and there would be hell to pay!
* * *
The two wayfarers had been blessed with some thin autumn sunshine, for the best part of the day. This enabled them to cover quite some distance in relative comfort, but the evening chill was fast setting in, and it would soon become necessary to find somewhere to stop.
Luminor was a long way from fully recovered, and Fralii was also very tired from their trek. The extensive woodland had afforded them cover for many furlongs, then had opened out into a rocky terrain leaving them more exposed to the threat of airborne predators. Obviously, neither of them could forget the trauma and effects of the kudros attack. That at least one of the beasts might still be in the area was a worry. The huge wingspan, some fifteen metres from tip to tip, allowed the kudros to range over large tracts of countryside, in daylight hours usually, when though they could be easily spotted, their prey was always powerless to escape the speed and power of an attack. It was puzzling that there had been no sightings for so long; they were known to be territorial. Luminor wondered if they had been displaced from their nest, casting his mind back to the pungent scent he encountered in the lair of the flame adder, knowing it had only recently made its home in the far Northern Mountains, and had likely chased the kudros from their long-time home. This upheaval in Nature was far-reaching. He sensed the mysterious flux of change, deep in his bones, realising now that it had resided there for as long as he could remember, as if it was an integral part of him, begging fulfilment. He pondered this question for a long time, strongly sensing the answer was within his reach.
Right now t
hey needed food and water, and shelter for the night, so it was a welcome boon to come across a rocky outcrop overlooking a large freshwater pool. Luminor chose an overhang that would suffice for cover, Fralii went off to gather dry wood for the fire, and the flint in the saddlebag would ensure they had warmth that night. Luminor went down to the pool, still without arrows, but hoping to spear a fish with his sword. The light was fading as he waited at the water’s edge, the minutes stretching out before he noticed a dark shape approaching to his left in the bottom of the pool. He did not recognise the creature in the murkiness which it stirred from the mud in the shallows, but the likelihood of it being edible spurred him to raise his sword, focus, and stab quickly down through its back. It thrashed its long black body once, twice, then with a quick flick, Luminor tossed its lifeless body out onto the rock beside him. It was a roe eel, quite a large one, not the most delicious of meals, but a meal all the same, so he gutted and skinned it, being careful to dispose of the entrails a goodly distance from their camp. He returned to Fralii, proud to present this prize to her. It would sustain them for another day.
Sitting somewhat wearily on a log, he laid the eel on a boulder next to the building flames. ‘Food!’ he said, with a victorious smile at Fralii, which she returned with a joyful clap of her hands. They set about roasting pieces of it on sticks, biting into the hot, succulent flesh, so hungry they did not notice the slightly muddy taste, or that they occasionally burned their mouths in their haste.
Fralii feeling full for the first time in many days, and Luminor needing the extra food to regain his strength, they sat back against the rock wall, hunger sated, silently basking in the warmth of the campfire until it flickered to embers, and they slept side by side in the simple comfort of each other’s company, both resisting the urge to embrace, for different reasons. Fralii kept to herself because she thought the hand-holding could have just been an expression of relief and gratitude, and she felt shy. He had shown no particular affection since, although he sometimes stared so strangely at her, it made her shiver.
With his returning strength, Luminor fought quietly and constantly against the almost overpowering desire to take her in his arms and hold her safe, but in reality, he knew she would perhaps not be entirely safe as honour would demand. His physical attraction threatened to take over, even at arm’s length. He wanted to kiss her senseless. He shuddered, for her sake, to think what might happen if he gave those powerful feelings free rein. He did not want to frighten her. Truth be told, he frightened himself, with the heightening awareness that she had also begun to care for him. Patience! The practice of patience strengthened the character, did it not? Nonetheless, his sleep was filled with extremely pleasant, impatient, and somewhat dishonourable dreams.
Chapter Twenty-five
The moisture from the early morning fog had soaked their blankets, rousing them to an uncomfortable damp chill. Sitting up, Fralii shivered, eyeing the lifeless black ashes and wishing the fire was still alight. Luminor also woke, pulling his blanket tightly around his shoulders and turning to look at her. ‘You want more fire.’ It was a statement, not a question. She was taken aback by this, irritated by his all-knowing expression, and responded more sharply than he deserved, ‘So, you can also read minds… that you know this!’ She met his eyes almost defiantly, her contrary behaviour puzzling him yet again. He gazed searchingly into those violet wonders which always threatened to mesmerise him, before he hastily lowered his eyes, ignoring the barb. With a wry smile, he said patiently, truthfully, ‘No. You look there!’ Pointing to the ashes, he added, ‘It is cold!’
Sheepishly, Fralii turned her attention to her feet, rubbing them far more vigorously than was necessary.
‘I could collect more sticks,’ she offered hopefully, knowing she would have to go soon to answer the call of nature. Luminor seriously considered reviving the fire; he was also cold to the bone. It was very early dawn, and they had some time before daylight.
‘Yes. A small fire only,’ he allowed. She looked very pleased. He stood and followed her out of the rocky shelter. They both abandoned their wet blankets; Fralii shivered anew, as she turned purposefully to set off in the opposite direction to Lumi, when he touched her arm (causing her to jump at the contact) and held on, gently preventing her movement while he placed his cloak around her shoulders. Inside, the feathers had stayed dry, and her skin soaked up the immediate warmth they bestowed. She rewarded him with a shy smile and a quiet ‘Thank you.’ Then each went about their separate business for a few minutes, before returning to pile their twigs, add a spark, and warm themselves briefly by the tiny blaze.
All too soon, Luminor announced they should be on their way. Getting obediently to her feet, Fralii, concerned about his weakened state, offered Luminor his cloak, which he predictably insisted she keep. He rolled up the wet blankets, hoping to dry them later, when they could make a larger fire. Thank the Ancestors for flint. Where would they be without it? He thought of Thunis, the only one of their race with the supreme power to control Fire, and wondered what that must be like. He supposed he might know one day. Breaking this brief reverie, he struck off confidently in a direction, while Fralii still marvelled at how Luminor always seemed to know which way they had to go. There was no road, no track that she could see. But she trusted him.
Luminor was quietly aware that sometime this day they would come upon a village. On the plus side, there would be samblars. The downside could be dealing with the people who owned them. Every new day increased his strength and with it his powers, but he still had not revealed his true nature to Fralii, so getting a samblar without coin, while keeping those things secret, could be a serious challenge. On that same note, with all the chaos and ensuing difficulties, he really hoped she had forgotten the flying incident.
After a midday meal of some leftover cooked eel, and a short rest, they continued on their way, soon encountering a narrow, dusty track winding into the distance to their left. Luminor started down the byway, with Fralii on his heels for several minutes, before coming to a sudden halt, stating, ‘This is not the way!’ She stopped abruptly behind him, demanding, ‘What do you mean? Not the way? Are we lost?’ She found the possibility alarming, as she had come to rely on his sense of direction.
He replied, in an explanatory tone, ‘No. There is a village. There are samblars.’ She was realising that his short explanations would have to suffice for the most part. She also had growing confidence in his ability to achieve his goals, sometimes by mysterious means, which she doubted very much could be attributed to luck.
A few furlongs more, as the village came into view, he directed them off their new track into a copse of trees. ‘We wait here until night.’ The brilliant idea had come to him when he had spotted an abandoned barn not far from the outskirts of the village. After dark, he would leave her there in safety, hopefully sleeping, while he perpetrated the theft of a samblar or two. If he was alone, it would be a simple matter, and Fralii would be none the wiser to his method. In truth, he really did not enjoy stealing these days; in fact, he felt guilty, but with the lack of options, it was much quicker, easier, and painless for everyone, using his magic.
The campfire that night was deep in a gully, amongst very tall trees. They were far enough away to be well out of sight of the village, and they sorely needed the warmth as another freezing fog descended with the darkness. At least the rising smoke from the fire would not be visible, hidden by the treetops and the mist. A roaring blaze was soon drying the blankets, plenty of timber was available to burn, and in the dimming light as they had collected it, they also found and dug up some wild yams. A few handfuls of the tasty roots, cooked quickly in the hot flames, sufficed to quell their hunger. Luminor ate very moderately, insisting Fralii eat the larger portion. He constantly worried to himself that she had become so thin, and he was feeling much stronger now, anyway.
The time came to douse the fire and move on to the empty barn, which would provide drier shelter through the night, even i
n its dilapidated state. Half the roof was missing and a goodly number of wall planks had rotted away, but they found a cosy corner to hunker down in the straw. Covering Fralii with a blanket, Luminor pretended to fall asleep quickly and waited for her to do the same. Having told her earlier that he might go out during the night to scout possibilities in the village, he hoped that would prevent her from panicking should she wake and find him gone.
Miraculously, the ramshackle barn still had two rickety doors hanging on, which he managed to close behind him, offering a modicum of safety from wild animals. Then, raising his cloak, he summoned an updraught to carry him to the edge of the village in seconds. He came down softly, right beside the samblar pens, crouching in the deep shadows, focussing to calm the animals so they would ignore his presence. He could see one man on the far side of the yards, propped against the shed wall, who appeared to have fallen asleep during his watch. A stroke of luck! Luminor could sense the guard was not alert. Quietly opening the gate latch, he slipped in amongst the samblars and put lead ropes on the two nearest ones. Tread softly, tread softly, quiet, dear ones, he willed silently. Once out through the gate and closing it behind him, he held them really still while he listened for movement from the guard. A loud snore told him all was well, and he lightly leapt on to the back of the brown animal, stroking its neck reassuringly, letting it know how much he appreciated its gentle compliance. He urged it on at a quiet walking pace with the other samblar in tow; the sound of their hooves was disguised by the intermittent stomping and snorting of the remainder of the herd in the pen as they milled about in their normal manner.
Luminor had originally entertained the idea of getting some food while he was in the mood for stealing, but the priority of getting the samblars had gone so well, he contented himself with just that.
He felt exuberant, as he cantered the samblars swiftly across the open fields towards the barn, wondering, not for the first time, how humans ever managed to accomplish anything with all their time spent talking, and without powers.